


Soundless

by SecretTimeIsHere



Series: Short stories/ fanfics [11]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Idea not mine, Mute Error
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22221556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretTimeIsHere/pseuds/SecretTimeIsHere
Summary: Mute Error concept belongs to @SkylerSkyhigh and @xXUndertale_loverXx, the series is called PJ and Error's daycare. I loved the work a lot and I wanted to try writing mute Error myself except a slightly different situation. So the what if was: What if The gang(plus Fresh) never met Error and he was mute?I'm thinking about making a part 2 to this I'm not sureI tried to make as accurate interpretation of Error and how he thought and how his life worked but I'm not sure how I did, so this might be OOC?
Relationships: None
Series: Short stories/ fanfics [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1340989
Comments: 5
Kudos: 142





	Soundless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SkylerSkyhigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkylerSkyhigh/gifts), [Tereox_X](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tereox_X/gifts).



Warm tears poured from his eyes as he held his shattered body. The deafening silence cutting through him harder than any attack. _Everything hurt._

The voices started up again, and he let them. He wouldn’t ever be able to stop them. He could only sit and wait until that damned squid made another copy while his code slowly healed his broken remains of a body.

He didn’t try and make sense of the voices anymore, they only screamed at him, what’s the point? The balance was reinstated, for now, he could try and relax, but that’d never happen. He’s only been able to fall asleep when his own body knocks him out. Tired from the lakes of tears he’s cried, or his body shuts off to heal and block out the pain for some time.

He could try and knit again, but his fingers were only flakes and pieces of what used to be skillful and careful bone. His eye sockets were chipped and bruised as well, so any string he would try and pull out would only hurt him more.

What did he do to deserve this?

The sound of a portal echoed in his Anti-Void. Not a welcome sound.

He could try to stand up, but his legs were still broken. He got up anyway.

Turning, a dark black figure dripped tar on his clean floors, he knew who it was, and the figure likely knew who he was too.

Of course, Nightmare had found his safe place. Even if it wasn’t all that safe. However, something seemed off about the corrupted skeleton. The self-proclaimed King looked worried, shocked, and far from anything positive or emotionless, as he and the rest of the multiverse were only allowed to see him as.

His body was silently trembling, and inside, he desperately wanted to just let the Guardian end his pain, but he couldn’t trust anyone anymore. He had nothing left. Except for the murderous life and persona given to him.

...Besides, he’s tried before. He can’t die.

“Error?” The deep menacing voice rung out, with worry dripping alongside what his mind could only think of as venom. He heard it in every voice. Venom that wants to kill him. His legs shook harder, but he forced them to stand.

The singular blue eye looked him over, the angry eye falling back into and relaxing. So cocky, the King likely thought he could take him down in a hit right now, that he wasn’t a threat.

Slowly, the glitch gave a nod, a small gesture that hurt so much. A tear came to his socket and he moved his weight from one leg to the other, flinching at the pain, but slightly calming when the unused leg started to cool down. The burning pain starting to fade away and heal again.

The error kept his scowl and glare, never blinking or looking away from Nightmare, that is until his legs gave out under him, a sickening snap ringing out. Great, now the leg wasn’t only snapped, but even more so shattered than his fingers.

A cold feeling washed over him, a pressure he recognized, and it burned brighter than the pain engulfing his body. Insitincfully, he wrapped his arms around himself and curled into a tight ball, he may look like the most pitiful thing in the multiverse right now, but it’s worth it to get away from the touch. His mouth unhinged in a silent scream, voice unable to make a sound.

“Okay. No touching. My hands are up and away, see?” The venom was still in the voice, but it lowered to a quiet soothing tone. What was he trying to do? The cold feeling left as soon as it had come and the burning pain of contact jumped back down, a gentle buzz in his skull, ever accompanying the shrieking voices.

Looks up, the hands were, indeed, gone. Risen up by the other’s face and far away from his glitching and aflame body. Good.

“Can I ask something a bit personal?”

His glare reinstated, hands still on his skull and in a fetal position, downgrading the hated and despised aura he gave off to something of a lost cub. A small frail animal that was far from home and greatly hurt, defenses up but could be easily knocked down like dominos. Breaking the steel painted paper walls surrounding the secretly terrified skeleton.

Slowly, he nodded his skull again, flinching harder when the burning pain flared and cackled the fire in his bones.

“Are you mute, Error?” He flinched ever harder at the question, and curled even more so when the pain grew all the more. Nightmare shushed him, “Calm down, please. I needed to know so I could help you-”

No. No one was supposed to help him. They’d get angry. _They’d scream more._ **_They’d hurt him even more._ **

Despite the pain, he started to crawl back, away from the cold King. He’d already angered the voices enough today, he was supposed to be destroying right now. They were screaming at him. Reminding him of what he is. _A useless pathetic-_

Error’s captured his vision, and he fell into a reboot, his body felt so cold…

  
  


\-----

  
  
  


He awoke in a dark place, laying on something soft, bandages scratching against his clean bones. A dark place was never good. Being on something soft wasn’t good. His bones were never clean. He wasn’t home.

Immediately as it clicked, he panicked, kicking away the monstrosity of very comfortable fluff and falling off the weird elevated thing he was placed on. Something else scratching at his bones below him. He hated it.

Where was his smooth floor? Where were his cold sleepless nights? The screaming that never stopped? _Where was his home?_

He tried to pull up his hood, at least he could have that right? No, his last comfort was gone. The one thing that he could actually say he had. He was wearing something different. It _wasn’t his_ . It was _different_ . It was _bad._

The door slammed open and Nightmare bolted in, a few skeletons behind him. Too many people. Way too many.

His breathing started to go faster, all of his discomfort molding into a ball of panic and layered with pain from his aggravated wounds.

Nightmare walked close and dropped down to one knee, trying to gently shush the forced destroyer to calm down. The tears started to pour again.

Error could hear the dark skeleton talk to a few people but then it went silent again. Too silent. He hadn’t had complete silence in ages, it was weird. Different. Not bad. Good. Silence good. No voices. No shrieking. Better.

“Hey,” The guardian’s voice broke through his thoughts, it was soothing again, but what he thought was venom… sounded like something different. Something he couldn’t describe, it was on the tip of his tongues and yet he couldn’t remember the word. “It’s okay, you’re safe here, alright?”

The glitch let his head drift upwards, not trusting, but at the least needing to pretend to at the moment.

“Do you want your jacket? Or something to comfort you?” His blurry vision drifted over to the blanket. In his panic, he didn’t recognize what it was, only that he didn’t know what was touching him. It’d been so long since he had any sort of basic necessity. His code was messed with to the point of no longer even being mortal.

He didn’t need to eat anymore. So he could keep destroying. He didn’t need to sleep anymore. So he’d never stop working. His body healed itself automatically. So he would never need to stop the job he hated with a passion that burned brighter than the daily pain.

Lost in thought, he flinched and mouthed a curse as he accidentally hurt himself again, startled by the soft warm blanket being carefully wrapped around him. It was soft pastel pink, near white. Looking nearly like the floor of the AntiVoid but soft as… he couldn’t compare it to anything. He couldn’t even remember things from the life he had before.

Tears started to pour over and he hugged himself and cuddled into the blanket, finding a new source of comfort, aside from his jacket. A cold presence arrives near his head and he froze, but only the blanket touched him. Nightmare had pulled it up over his skull like a hood.

His gaze struggled to focus on the other skeleton, and without looking away, he went to reach for his pocket. Only to remember he didn’t have his jacket on right now, just a black t-shirt that was too baggy for him and shorts that should’ve fit but didn’t.

“I have your jacket right here, see?”

Nightmare grabbed something beside him a showed a sloppily fixed blue hoodie, his hoodie. He rushed forward to grab it and pulled back as soon as his hand touched it, hugging it close to himself and hiding it in his blanket cave.

Actually reaching into the pocket this time, he pulled out his glasses and pushed them on, letting the string already tied to the ends keep them on his head.

Finally, his vision focused, and there weren’t as many people as there was before. Even half the amount he thought, or a third, his vision blurring each figure into multiple people. He couldn’t name any of the skeletons, all of them wearing casual clothing, but a few defining features gave them away.

Killer still had his tear marks. Cross still had his scar. Dust still has his abnormal eyes. Horror still had the hole in his skull. Fresh still had his glasses. Nightmare still had his one eye. He was pathetic, hated, and waste. Some things didn’t change.

Nightmare gave him a curious look to his glasses and sudden neutral expression, but let it wash away.

“Do you know any sign language?” He raised an eyebrow, what language? He can’t speak damn it, he wouldn’t even have time to learn it. He should be out destroying right now. It’s his only purpose- “ I suppose not then...”

Slowly, maybe to not disturb him-? Nightmare rose up and walked to his gang, back facing him. How did he trust him enough to not throw an attack the first chance he got? Then again, he was far from home, in an unfamiliar place in the middle of only Nightmare and his gang know where-

His glitches went up as he kept up his internal rant, repeating things he’d been brainwashed over and over again into thinking. So much so, he could only think of what the voices said as true. Every. Little. Word.

A Loud beep sounded as he crashed, a few bright Blue tears falling as he fell into unconsciousness again.

  
  


\-----

  
  


Waking up again, the blanket was off him, some material was under him that he couldn’t name, and nothing supported his skull. His hand searched for the comfort he had gained earlier, what was it called-

“Are you searching for the blanket?” The voice startled him, laced with ~~venom~~ a kind of care that he hadn’t had the opportunity to ever hear directed towards him. Only ever having truthful insults told to him, giving him a daily reminder of the trash he was. To just take himself to the curb already. If only he could…

A soft thing was pushed towards him, the color familiar. The blanket. It was the blanket being pushed towards him. Hesitantly, he pulled the fabric around his shoulders. A few minutes later, something else was pushed towards him.

“Do you know how to write?” He gave a small nod, “We can talk this way then.” Nightmare’s voice seemed happy, even under the gurgling layers of the corruption he was covered in. How could the embodiment of Negativity himself be happy, and himself not?

He wrote it down.

“How can I be happy?” Nightmare let out a laugh, that to anyone sane sounded like a gallows laugh. Nervous, unbelieving, “Well I’m at home, safe from anyone trying to hurt me.”

He quickly wrote again.

**Isn’t a home supposed to hurt?**

“What… no. It’s a safe place where you can be free and yourself-”

**Isn’t safe supposed to hurt too?**

“No-”

**But the AntiVoid is the safest place I know, it hurts less than anywhere else, but it still hurts.**

“Error.” The Destroyer paused his writing, listening. Nightmare sighed, “A home should never hurt you, someplace safe should never, _ever_ hurt you.”

**The AntiVoid is the only place I’ve been allowed to call home.**

“Allowed?”

**I called OuterTale home for a bit, but then Inky started to find me there...**

“You could call here home, stay with us-”

**The voices say no one should help me, I’m not worth it.**

“Well I say you are.” Nightmare huffed, “Those voices are wrong.” Error started to write again, “No. They’re wrong.” The destroyer paused, before writing again.

**Then how do you plan on helping me?**


End file.
